


Home is where your heart is

by Ario245



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Daudsider if you squint, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Low Chaos (Dishonored), Low Chaos Daud (Dishonored), Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29307759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ario245/pseuds/Ario245
Summary: Daud has never had a home. Or did he?(Daud's life in a kinda Daud-POV way.)
Kudos: 9





	Home is where your heart is

**Author's Note:**

> So my muse punched me in the face with this yesterday and since I'm Whaler-trash here you go.  
> My beta was (as always) my beautiful Jashin88.
> 
> WARNING: there is child abuse implied but not directed at Daud, only at an OC. Read bottom notes if you're unsure about reading.
> 
> Also right away thank you for clicking on this story. I hope you'll enjoy reading it.<3
> 
> Alternative title: Homo is where your Lupus is.  
> (I'm funny, leave me alone.)

As long as he remembered Daud didn't have a home.

He was born and raised in Serkonos but they never stayed in one city long enough to actually call it a home, his mother hurrying to pack all the herbs and bottles into bags just to run away with him to another town in the middle of the night.

The Watch was usually turning a blind eye, especially since some of them were customers themselves but staying long enough to be caught by Overseers was not a luxury his mother could afford for something as unnecessary as a home or friendships for her son.

His mother was no witch - and Daud made sure that everybody who said something different would soon come to regret it - but one could never trust the Abbey - who already saw the workings of the Outsider in every herbal tea - to not be scared by a woman who not only sold medicines but also poisons.

He hated moving.  
Didn't understand the full extend of the danger yet.  
He only knew that all the other children playing in the streets viewed him as a stranger, smelling of the weird herbs hanging in their house.

His mother often shooed him out to play with them but he didn't like being with people who thought him to be strange or even beneath them.

He didn't belong there.

He didn't really belong anywhere.

Instead he started climbing up on buildings, jumping over rooftops, trying his best not to be seen by anyone.

And it worked. He got better at hiding, his footsteps nearly silent.

He got so good at it that people in the crowded marketplace would never know where their purses vanished to or why there was no bread in their baskets even though they were sure they had stopped by the bakery.

He was invisible.

Like a ghost.

Ghosts didn't need homes.

The next time they moved to a new city he showed the street kids what he could do. How smart and fast and skilled he was.

The children admired him. That was better than friendship.

But he should have known better for the children were not the only ones watching him from that day on.

Had he not been so caught up on his pride he might have noticed the shadow trailing behind him before it was too late and he was dragged away with nobody hearing his screams. 

The next thing he knew he awoke far away from his mother, no way to go back, no idea where he would even have to go to find her again. Just a stupid child who didn't remember the name of the city he moved to just a few days ago.

Just a stupid child who had to work for the man who took him from his family or starve otherwise.

He had no home.

He was not the only boy in the property of his master.  
They were five.

One girl with dead eyes who only moved from her spot on an old blanket when their master called for her, and four boys who had to learn to fight and to care for their masters every wish.

He send them out to break into the homes of nobles, to steal gems and statues and jewellery only for him to sell them on the black market.

And Daud hated every second of it.

He hated his master, hated the dead eyes of that girl, hated how him and the other boys had to fight for their food, hated the City Watch who couldn't catch them and end their misery but most of all he hated those Nobles who had their homes stuffed with unnecessary riches while children like him didn't even have homes.

He hated. Hated. Hated.

He hated himself and his stupid pride.

One day he even caught himself hating his mother for sending him outside to make friends.

He didn't know why he took the knife.

He had been sent to steal a necklace from a noble woman's house.

He had found the ugly, shiny piece fast and on his way out he had passed the kitchen and-

He didn't know why he took the knife and hid it in his boot.

They were not allowed to have weapons with them.  
The only blades they ever got were blunted training swords to learn how to take out other people in case they got caught.

He never got caught.

So he had absolutely no reason to take the knife.

But that night when their master called for the girl again Daud told her to stay and went in her stead.

It didn't take long to kill the drunk bastard who had abducted them.

Slitting a throat was easier than he had thought.

His master didn't realize what was happening until it was already too late.

Because Daud was silent like a ghost.

When he got back to the other kids three pairs of eyes looked at his blood soaked figure in awe, the girl still staring at the wall.

"I'm leaving. Come with me or stay here. I don't fucking care."

The boys were quick to take everything that they could either sell or maybe need themselves and wait for him at the door.

He couldn't leave the girl like that.

His blade was already drenched in blood and starving would be a worse fate for her.

They left in the middle of the night, the house burning behind them.

If he had known then that he would loose the other boys one by one in only a few months time he might have gone alone right away. 

For years he travelled around the isles.

He was a thief, not caring if he got caught for he could just as well slice his path through the people standing in his way.

He never stayed in one place for long.

Just a lone wolf, passing from sheep herd to sheep herd. 

He was sixteen when he got to Dunwall.

It was raining.

The city was cold and wet and dirty.

Nothing like Serkonos at all.

This would never be his home.

He would never have a home. 

A few years later he was sitting on a rooftop in the distillery district, eating some bread when he saw a boy being chased by Bottle Street Thugs.

They were howling with laughter when he slipped on the cobblestones and fell, scraping his knees over the street.

He didn't get up before they got to him.

They kicked him, taunted him, called him weak.

He looked more like a wet dish-rag than a boy when one of the thugs picked him up at his shirt collar and carried him a few steps only to let him dangle over the waves of the river.

Now he started thrashing. He kicked at his assilant, grabbed his arms in the hope of not being thrown into the water but he stood no chance.

A few seconds later the Wrenhaven swallowed him with a splashing noise.

The Bottle Street Boys left but Daud watched the waves.

The boy tried desperately to keep his head above the water but he was loosing the battle against the river, his arms to weak to carry the weight of his wet clothes.

He didn't really remember climbing down the roof or jumping into the ice cold water but a few minutes later he was dragging a coughing, wet puddle of a boy to the shore.

His intention was to leave again right away.  
He was a thief, a killer, a lone wolf. He didn't save people.

But the boy was surprisingly quickly back on his feet and followed him, all the way thanking him and rambling about how he had tried to steel food from the Bottle Street's supplies but got caught and how he owed Daud his life and would do everything for him.

"Just leave me alone.", with those words Daud vanished through the window of an abandoned building, and made his way back to the roofs again. 

He awoke later that night to a boy lying on the floor next to where Daud himself had fallen asleep.

He had found a sealed attic, the only way to enter through a window on the rooftop that had been his hideout for a few nights now.

He had not thought anybody else to be smart enough to find the place but apparently he had been trailed by a very tiny shadow.

A shadow that was currently lying shivering on the floor.

He didn't know why but he took his coat off and laid it on top of the small figure who stopped shivering after only a few seconds.

That's how he met Rinaldo, the first one of many boys who would soon become the most feared group of assassins in the Empire. 

It was also the night he met the Outsider for the first time.

The black eyed creature told him how fascinating he was and Daud - desperately trying to get his approval - thought he meant his skills as a silent killer.

The god didn't take long to be bored by him again and disappearing from his life.

He didn't come back, no matter how many bones and runes Daud brought to the violet shrines.

But he wasn't alone anymore.

He had his subordinates. His Whalers.

They were weapons at his disposal.

Listening to his every order.

Looking at him with respect and awe.

They would die for him without questioning why.

Pure loyalty. 

And then everything changed in one day.

It was as if he awoke from a bad dream when he looked in HER eyes as she died.

As he killed her.

The Empress. 

The next half year passed in a blur, felt more like a few weeks.

The Outsider visiting him again. Everything he had wanted for so long.

Billie betraying him, leading the men his mother had taught him to fear right to their... base. Their base.

6 of his men - his family? No, he didn't have things like that - dead in one night. 

He let her go, couldn't paint the walls they lived in with her blood.

He chose Thomas, the most loyal of his men, as his new right hand.

He trapped Delilah in the Void, saving little Lady Emily through his actions.

And then Attano showed up, half dead from poison.

He didn't understand why Attano let him live.

He didn't really care.

He only knew that he had to get out of Dunwall.

So he packed his things and was just about to transverse away when -

"Sir?"

Thomas stood in the doorway, Whaler mask abandoned, his neck bruised - Attano had knocked him out apparently - bags under his eyes - he had not slept since Attano came to their base - he looked like hell.

The question in his eyes was unmistakable though:  
"Are you leaving without us?" 

He had no home.

He had never had a home.

And still...

"Get the men. Pack only the things we really need. We're leaving tonight."

**Author's Note:**

> About the abuse warning: so canon says Daud gets abducted in his childhood so I threw him in a group with 4 other children. 3 boys who have to steal/fight for the bad guy and a girl who he abuses. Rape is implied but I didn't actually write it. Daud kills the abusor and mercy-kills the girl later on.  
> If you want to skip that part:  
> It starts at "He was not the only boy in the property of his master."  
> And the next 'safe' part starts with "For years he travelled around the isles."  
> The first sentence in every part should be safe to read for everybody.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING THIS STORY!


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